Thank you, Moitri. Greetings, alumni and friends.
My task today is to update you on the state of the University. That’s not a joke. This has not been a typical year, so this will not be a typical update. In recent months, Harvard has attracted an unusual amount of attention. Unless you have been living off the grid—or on the International Space Station with Harvard Medical School alum Jonny Kim—you are no doubt familiar with some of the serious challenges the University is facing.
What is our approach to those challenges?
First, we are defending the University against misrepresentations of who we are and what we do.
Second, we are defending the University against retaliation by the federal government for refusing to surrender our rights.
And, third, we are addressing legitimate criticism.
We recognize that no university—no institution—is without flaws. They are inevitable. They are also correctable. We are working hard to ensure that we give each person at Harvard the opportunity to thrive, which means providing for the safety and security of all members of our community and combating antisemitism and other forms of discrimination and hate. We are working to promote open discourse and constructive dialogue so that everyone feels comfortable expressing their views. We are developing plans to ensure that a greater variety of respected, rigorous, and compelling viewpoints is present and heard on our campus. And we have made clear the rights and responsibilities that membership in our community demands. Unless we are able to overcome these flaws, we are unlikely to be successful in pursuing our mission of excellence in teaching, learning, and research.
We have reason to be optimistic. Only one thing about Harvard has persisted over 388 years—and actually it’s not our name. It’s our embrace of scrutiny, advancement, and renewal. A perfect university would not be a university at all. These irreplaceable places—established, nurtured, and supported over centuries—are built on the idea that there is always more to know and more to do. Just as humanity rounds the bend from ignorance to insight, new vistas open and more possibilities for progress appear on the horizon. One of the greatest joys of life is realizing that there is no end to learning, no end to discovery, no moment to rest on one’s laurels—and not a minute to waste. The pursuit of truth—of Veritas—is perpetual. We are unceasing in our efforts to champion our motto.
Many of us are here today because institutional mistakes—small and large, subtle and glaring—were identified, considered, and corrected by our predecessors. Like them, we bear the responsibility of delivering to our successors an institution that is better and stronger than the one we inherited. Like them, we prepare Harvard not for the age that is unfolding now but for the age that is waiting before us.
Last week, I told our graduates that they are the hope of Harvard embodied—living proof that our mission changes not only the lives of individuals but also the trajectories of communities. I know that is true because of you. Your care and attention, your service and leadership, your achievements and contributions—many heralded but many, many more delivered with little fanfare—across too many fields of endeavor to list—have made life better for countless people and have made the world better for all of us.
As Harvard has faced demands from without, you have provided strength from within. You have advocated for our interests and supported our research and teaching efforts. Out of loyalty, you have offered honest and thoughtful criticism. You have inspired me with your stories of how the University fueled your ambitions, and helped you accomplish more than you dreamed you could. You have told me about the classmates and friends who changed your thinking, and the faculty and mentors who expanded your perspective.
And one of you, who has demonstrated remarkable courage in standing up for the rights we all hold dear, let me know last week how readings from Social Studies 10 decades ago have come in very handy today.
Now—a reasonable person might make a fair observation about what I’ve just said—of course, alumni and friends of Harvard love Harvard; of course, alumni and friends are defending our mission to educate students, produce and disseminate knowledge, and serve our nation and our world; of course, alumni and friends are standing up for this institution and everything for which it has stood for centuries—and for which it continues to stand.
But what about people with no direct connection to Harvard, Alan?
Well, your many emails and letters were not the only ones I received this semester. Thousands of individuals who have only experienced Harvard from a distance, some who had known it as little more than a name, also took the time to voice their support for the University.
Our efforts to preserve academic freedom—and our insistence that no government should dictate what we teach, who we admit and hire, and which areas of study and inquiry they can pursue—were welcomed and applauded around the world and across the country—from every state in the Union.
I’ve heard from a monk in Arkansas, a librarian in Kentucky, a firefighter in Massachusetts, a dentist in Oregon, a veteran in Virginia, a social worker in Wisconsin—the list goes on and on. I’ve heard from high school students and college students, from people who care deeply about higher education and what it represents—and from parents and grandparents whose own hope for the future is bound to the prospects of their children and their grandchildren.
“The road ahead will not be easy,” wrote a woman from Arizona “But I believe future generations will look back at this moment and remember that when principles were tested, Harvard did not yield.”
As long as there are people across this country and around the world—and within this hallowed theater—who believe in the promise of Harvard, who put their hope in higher education, I will never lose confidence in our ability to meet our obligation to the future.
The University is as strong as the people of the University. That is all of you—and so many others. If I have learned anything since our last meeting—in addition to everything I learned about the tenacity of glitter—it is that the people who support this University are far more numerous than I ever hoped to imagine.
May their confidence in our motto and our mission, and their willingness to stand with Harvard, sustain us in the months to come. May Veritas lift us up and light our way, especially in dark times, enabling Harvard and our fellow universities to persevere and succeed in building a better future, not perfect but more perfect than the present. And may those who come after us look back on the work we do today with gratitude and pride.
Thank you.